They All Lived Story 11: Holding Out
by LadyWordsmith
Summary: A freak accident brings things in the Elric household to a stand-still.


August 19th, 1936

Edward sighed and put the files he was holding on top of the stack to finish up tomorrow. Paperwork; he had long ago learned to understand Mustang's distaste for it; he had never even enjoyed writing reports on his missions, but it was an evil necessity, as he had learned. After near constant interruptions, he had taken his phone off the hook just to get a break from the ringing. It had sped up his productivity tremendously! If they really needed him, it wasn't that far to walk.

Another hour and he could go home and spend a quiet evening with his family; help Sara with her homework, and play a game with Aldon before it was time for bedtime stories. It was hard to believe that Sara was nine, and Aldon turning six soon! His son was so excited about his birthday too; he'd been talking about it for weeks, and it was still nearly a month away!

That was good, because Ed had been planning a big surprise for his son this year, and he hoped he liked it; but he still needed to finish getting everything ready. Winry was handling the usual party preparations.

There was a knock at the door. "Come in," Ed called without looking up. It was probably Alphonse, or one of their students with a question.

"Excuse me, General Elric."

It was neither. Ed looked up and found a very stiff Lieutenant Colonel Feury standing in his office. He frowned. "What's with the formality, Feury?" None of Mustang's staff had ever called him by his rank in private ever; not even when he was just a Major.

It bothered him that the other man looked like he was about to cry. Of course, his large framed glasses always gave him a slightly wide-eyed look, but this was different. "It….it's about Winry. There's been an accident."

They were expecting Ed at the hospital. Two orderlies accosted him as he charged through the door, and let him immediately to one of the emergency ICU rooms.

"Edward!" Stevenson was waiting for him outside the door.

"What happened?" Ed asked, trying to shove past, but Stevenson blocked the way. "Where's Winry?!"

"The driver lost control of his vehicle, and swerved suddenly," Stevenson explained quietly, one hand firmly on Ed's shoulder with enough pressure to hold him in place unless Ed wanted to fight the man. "There was no warning."

"But she's…she's still alive right?" Ed could hardly believe he was asking that, but he had to know! She had been when Feury had gotten the message earlier. Ed had come straight over, dropping everything.

Stevenson nodded. "She's alive, but she's unconscious, and she sustained several injuries."

"But she's going to be all right…"

"That…remains to be seen," Stevenson sighed, and Ed felt his stomach sink. He wanted to ask if this was just some kind of sick joke, but he knew better; that was just his panic reflex.

He swallowed instead. "Can I see her?"

"Of course," Stevenson nodded. "If you're ready."

Ed knew he would never be ready to see Winry badly wounded, but he also wasn't about to give up any moments with her he could manage. Not if… no, he wouldn't think about that.

Stevenson let him into the room then. Winry lay in the bed, and Ed couldn't keep from gasping when he saw her. There were bandages on her forehead, and her face was mottled with dark bruises all the way down one side and down her neck until they disappeared under the covers and another bandage that covered her shoulder. There was an IV in one arm, and a nurse was taking vital signs. Ed wondered how many injuries were under the covers that he couldn't see.

Winry's breathing was shallow; Ed almost couldn't see it until he was up close. She was pale underneath the bruises, and he felt an irrational surge of rage. He wanted to hit something – preferably the car and the driver – that had done this to his wife! "Do they know what happened?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Not for certain," Stevenson replied. "The police have already been and gone. Apparently something broke in the steering system. He hit her on one side, and she fell into the wall on the other. Fortunately, she wasn't caught between them."

If she had been…. Oh hell. But she still might not make it. Stevenson had made that clear enough. "I… how bad are her injuries?" Ed made himself ask as he sat down beside the bed, gently taking her limp hand in his.

"Concussion, and we had to stitch up the side of her head," Stevenson replied. "Broken right shoulder, three broken ribs on the right, the knee on that side is strained, but not broken." He sighed. "What we haven't been able to determine yet, is if there was any spinal damage or internal injuries. There are some that take more time to be noticeable; the ones that aren't immediately fatal."

"There's no way to find them?" Ed hated the way his voice cracked as he spoke.

"Medicine is advancing, but no, not all of them. There are a few where we'll have to wait and see."

"Wait, for how long?"

"Until she wakes up. We can't fully judge the severity of the damage to her head, or her motor functions." Stevenson had never sounded so serious in the time Ed had known him, even despite his normally professional manner. "If there are internal injuries like we sometimes see in cases like this, it could take as long as a week or two for them to become obvious. She could be unconscious for weeks though. From experience; the longer she is unconscious, the less likely she is to wake up. Of course," he added quickly. "That's the worst case scenario."

If she didn't wake up; a sob escaped from Ed's throat before he could stifle it. He bit down on his lip hard. No. Now was not the time for tears. Not yet. Winry was strong, and stubborn. She could pull through this!

He refused to move from her bedside, even when the nurses returned to change the dressings on her wounds. Time seemed to blur and lose meaning.

"Ed. It's time to go."

A familiar hand settled on his shoulder, and Ed looked up into Alphonse's stricken face. Apparently Stevenson had already filled his brother in on the prognosis. "But I-"

"They'll call if there's any change," Alphonse pointed out softly. "Sara and Aldon are going to need you."

Ed rubbed his temples with one hand. His head was beginning to ache. "How am I going to tell them, Al?" he asked softly. He had forgotten about picking the kids up from Gracia's, where they usually went after school until Ed or Winry got off of work since Gracia was home in the afternoons. She also watched William, Al and Elicia's two year old son, a lot of the time.

"We'll manage," Al replied, and Ed was glad his brother was there. At least he wouldn't have to do it alone.

"Yeah. Love you," he bent over and whispered in Winry's ear. "I'll be back." Ed stood then, letting go of Winry's hand only at the last moment. She didn't stir.

It was a quiet drive over to Gracia's house. Al drove, which gave Ed plenty of time to gather his thoughts and try and get himself together. While Stevenson thought it was critical, he didn't think Winry was going to expire at any moment. That fact was mildly reassuring. It was bad, but as long as Winry was alive, she had a fighting chance.

When Gracia opened the door her smile faded when she saw their expressions. "Is something wrong?" she asked softly. Behind her, Ed could hear Aldon and Sara talking in another room, and the sounds of half-coherent babbles that were coming from little Will.

Ed's throat constricted, and he could barely speak.

"It's Winry," Al replied, sounding a little choked up himself. "She was hit by a car. She's in the hospital."

Gracia gasped and her eyes went wide. "Oh no!" She looked immediately back at Ed. "Will she be all right?"

"They…don't know yet," Ed finally managed a reply, though it came out very quiet. "She hasn't woken up."

Gracia looked like she wanted to say something else for a moment; then stepped out of the way instead so they could enter.

Ed had hoped to have a moment to compose himself before he had to face his children, but the minute the door closed behind them he heard familiar footsteps.

"Daddy!" Aldon tackled his right leg as Sara slammed into his left side with a fierce hug. Both of them were grinning happily and brimming with youthful energy. Ed put his arms reflexively around them both, as he always did, gripping down in a tight hug on each.

"You're late," Sara scolded, laughing. "Mommy's going to be mad if we're late for dinner!"

Ed swallowed, and crouched down a little to look directly into their faces. He watched their expressions fade from joyful smiles to confusion at his expression. Sara went from confused to frightened faster than Aldon. She was more aware of what the world could throw at people unexpectedly, and it showed. "Not tonight," he said softly. "She's been in an accident."

"An accident?" Sara's eyes went even wider. "Is she okay?"

"She's in the hospital," Ed replied softly, but he made himself smile. "They're going to take good care of her until she gets better." He hoped that would be enough to reassure them. After all, he'd been in the hospital a few times, even without a war breaking out in years, though usually for more minor issues. But Sara, at least, should understand what that meant.

"Okay," Sara replied, though she sounded a little uncertain.

"Is she hurt bad?" Aldon asked, still clinging to Ed's side.

"Pretty bad." Ed couldn't lie to them, not out right. "But she was sleeping when I left."

"Sleep is good when you're hurt," Sara nodded. "Can we see her?"

Ed shook his head and offered another smile he didn't feel. He didn't want them to worry. "Maybe tomorrow. Whenever we go, it'll be after she wakes up. But it's up to the doctor when we can visit and when we can't."

A day or two; he could manage that long. Winry would wake up and everything would be all right. Well, it would be better. She would have months of healing to do given her injuries.

Right now, all Ed desperately wanted was for Winry to open her eyes.

August 26th, 1936

A week and still no change. Well, not much. It was driving Ed crazy! He hadn't gone to work the next day, but had gone straight to the hospital, where he sat by Winry's side all day, wanting to be there; the first thing she saw when she woke up. Perhaps it was silly, but it was a burning need. If anything happened; if she woke up or… the opposite, Ed had to be there.

He couldn't have concentrated on work anyway but, after a second day of that, Stevenson had firmly told him that he could come back during normal visiting hours, and if there was any change in her condition he 'would' be called immediately, but Ed was just making things more difficult for the nursing staff.

The third day, Ed had tried going back to work. His usual focus was missing though, and he wasn't overly productive. He finished maybe half the usual paperwork, and a sparring session with one of his students in alchemic combat nearly got him his face split open when he missed an easy block. His concentration was off, and it showed.

By the end of the week, Ed felt like a real wreck. He hadn't slept well once since the accident, and his appetite was a fraction of what it normally was. He was too worried to have any interest in food and his stomach was too knotted from the stress.

He tried not to show it in front of Sara and Aldon of course, but he suspected they were picking up on the tension; and they both could count. They knew that their mother hadn't woken up in a week, and that it couldn't be good.

Ed would have taken just about any change; but while Stevenson assured him that her body was using all its energy to heal, and a lack of any major internal injury was a good sign – or she would have likely died in the first few days – Ed didn't feel particularly reassured.

The second week showed no real improvement in Winry's condition, and Ed's frustration and fear grew. Winry seemed to be stable, but she was still pale beneath bruises that had barely begun to heal, her hair was limp, and her features starting to stand out more starkly as her body subsisted only on the hydration she received from the intravenous needle that put water directly into her body.

Ed was beginning to lose it. Dreams were nightmares; and far too many times he had woken up in a cold sweat from dreams that brought his worst fears to life in frightening detail.

He did his best at home to keep things normal; he made dinner, helped the kids with their homework, did dishes and laundry as it was needed; he even bathed the dogs, though Chase and Oscar didn't appreciate that in the least!

Aldon and Sara had stopped asking about Winry every couple of hours. Ed felt guilty, but he knew they weren't asking because they knew what the answer would be. Until Doc Stevenson called there was no change. It made things around the house kind of strained, but the kids seemed to take solace in warm good night hugs, afternoon stories, and Ed's assurances that everything was going to be all right.

The problem was, Ed wasn't convinced. Stevenson's words kept haunting him. The longer Winry was out, the less chance there was that she was going to wake up. Now, Stevenson had also said that a couple of weeks weren't out of the question—

--but a couple of weeks was up.

September 5th, 1936

After taking one look at his brother that morning, Alphonse had offered to have Sara and Aldon spend the night at his house. A change of scenery and distraction was, he thought, probably good for them right now. Ed had agreed almost too easily. He looked ragged and a little scruffy – something that almost took effort on Ed's part. Ed looked tired too. Al couldn't really blame him; he was really worried about Winry himself, and hadn't slept too well either. But at least he had Elicia to talk to. Ed wouldn't dump his worries on his kids; but he didn't seem to be talking to anyone else either.

Which meant Ed was bottling things up and that was never good. Ed was a bottle that tended to explode when the pressure built up; exploded, or cracked. Al really didn't want to see either happen again.

So after he made sure everyone was happily settled at home, Al told Elicia he wanted to go check on Ed, and had headed over to his brother's house – picking up a large bag of fresh hot take-out from the little Xing restaurant that had opened up not far from headquarters a few years before. While they didn't go there too often, he knew Ed couldn't resist the stuff when it was offered.

He was counting on it.

Ed's car was in the driveway, and the lights were still on downstairs when Al pulled up outside. Not that Al had been expecting Ed to be asleep yet, it was only a little after regular dinner time. He 'was' however, suspicious that Ed probably hadn't bothered to fix himself much without the kids home.

Al rang the doorbell and waited. It was about a minute before he heard Ed's familiar tread on the wooden floors inside; with a distinct clank that made it clear he was barefoot.

The door opened, and Ed looked out at him with a slightly surprised expression. As Al had guessed, his brother was dressed for a night crashed out on his own; the usual black tank top, and a pair of dark grey sweats. His hair was back in a tail, but not braided, and damp as if he'd showered recently. Ed looked at him then sniffed, and his eyes went to the bag. "Hey, Al. Umm… what's that?"

Al smiled. "Dinner. Unless you're going to tell me you actually cooked."

"No…not yet," Ed admitted, looking slightly abashed. "Xing?"

"Yep," Al nodded. "It seemed like a good idea."

Ed smiled, though it was weaker than usual. "I appreciate it. Come on in."

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," Al commented as he followed Ed inside and down the entry hall to the living room.

"Yeah right," Ed snorted. "You didn't just happen to decide to drop by, I know you. Thought you'd check up on me right?"

It was Al's turn to be slightly embarrassed. "I guess it is pretty obvious," he replied with a shrug. "If the waiting is killing _me_, I figured someone should make sure you're holding up."

Ed sighed as he flopped down on the couch and draped himself onto it, sinking into the cushions as his arms went along the back. "I'm trying," he replied. It was a measure, Al considered, of how worn down his brother was that he wasn't denying it. "I don't really have the luxury of falling apart; the kids are scared enough as it is."

From his tone, Ed felt the same; they all did. Al laid out the food, pulling paper sacks of various dishes out of the larger sack and laying them out. "It'll be all right, Ed."

Ed looked mildly amused. "All of that's for me?"

"Most of it," Al nodded. "You put on a pretty good act at work, but you can't fool me brother. The only time you lose your appetite is when you're 'really' off; stressed, scared." He filled a plate and offered it to Ed who leaned forward to accept it. "I'm not leaving here until you've got noodles coming out your ears."

At that Ed actually cracked a little, smirking slightly. It looked weak under eyes darkened by circles. "There's a thought," he commented, but he took a bite. He looked surprised for a minute then started eating faster.

Al recognized the signs well enough; while Ed may not feel like eating, his body was telling him he more than needed this; it 'wanted' it. Of course, that was why Al had chosen that particular restaurant.

Up close, with Ed distracted momentarily by food, Al could get a good look at his brother. Ed really did put up a good brave front at HQ. He accepted sympathetic encouragement graciously, got things done, and mostly behaved normally around anyone outside of their close circle of friends and confidants. He even tried to act normal around Mustang and his crew too, though Al knew Ed was almost certainly aware that the front was obvious to them. They knew him too well; had watched him bottle up more than once.

But up close, in the privacy of his own home, Ed looked pretty lousy. The circles under his eyes were a testament to a lack of good sleep. His whole body looked tired, with little of his usual vigor; even now, hungry and faced with some of his favorite food, Ed didn't seem to have the energy and vivacity he normally did.

"You're staring," Ed commented through a mouthful of beef and noodles. "Do I look that bad?"

If he was asking, Al knew Ed already knew the answer. He sighed and nodded. "You look like something Chase dragged in from the yard," he replied, offering a smile. "Are you sleeping at all, Ed?"

"Thanks," Ed retorted, but he looked away. "No, not really." He went back to eating.

"Insomnia or nightmares?" Al asked softly. He'd suffered a little of both lately himself. Thank goodness for Elicia.

Ed swallowed. "Both," he admitted, sighing heavily. "I'm terrified of losing her, Al," he said quietly after a moment, staring down into his food. "I always assumed that, if something happened to one of us it would be to me; nature of the job you know? I never really thought about the other option and I'm terrified. Hell, she's still alive and I'm falling apart! What'll happen if…" he broke off, clearly unable to say what he feared most outright: if she died.

"Of course you are," Al replied. "We're all afraid of that. It's awful to contemplate, but you'd do just fine," he said encouragingly. "You've picked up the pieces before. You're strong."

"I don't feel strong," Ed replied without looking up. "Every time I think about it too directly I start…" he paused, and his hand went to his face, wiping away stray tears.

"She'll pull through, Ed," Al said. He hated to see his brother suffer like this. Ed wasn't the only one hurting, but Al knew pointing that out wasn't going to make Ed feel any better. Grief and worry were always personal.

"I wish I had your optimism, Al," Ed's voice cracked slightly, thick with emotion. "Two weeks and nothing; not a word, not even one open eye. They don't say anything, but I can see it in the nurses' faces. Stevenson's never been so polite to me either. If they're losing confidence then what am I supposed to do?"

"Know better," Al smiled. "Winry's one of the toughest people I know. Do you really think she's not fighting hard right now?"

"Of course she is," Ed replied without hesitation. "But we both know that's not always enough."

Al sighed; trying to find an angle that would help his brother. "What_ have_ they said, Ed?" There might be something more specific.

"It's not just the doctors, really," Ed admitted. "It's the kids."

"Oh?" Al didn't press.

"They want to see Winry so badly but," Ed _did_ hesitate then. "I'm not sure if it's better, or cruel, to let them. I mean, 'we' watched Mom die, and if I focus on that memory, and let myself see her and hear her in those last minutes, I still want to cry all over again. I don't want Sara and Aldon to have to suffer with those heavy memories."

"But?" Al could hear it in his brother's voice.

Ed looked at him. "I don't want them to miss out on a chance to say goodbye either. Winry didn't have that, and you know how she felt about that. Elicia never got to say goodbye to Hughes either. That's another kind of pain, and I think it might be worse than what you and I experienced; not having that chance to say the things you wanted to, while there might have been time; not being there to comfort them as they died." He sniffed slightly.

"That is a tough one," Al agreed softly. The pain of seeing their mother in such a state or possibly never getting to say goodbye; neither was pleasant. "I think you should let them see her," he said after a little thought. "I know that even if Mom couldn't have said anything to us it felt right that we were there with her at the end. Mom knew we were there, and I think it made things easier for her. And me…I mean, at least I knew she went peacefully, you know? It was kind of like closure…" Kind of, but only because at her funeral Ed had sounded so sure when he said they could bring her back that Al had been willing to follow his brother into anything to make that happen.

"Until we messed it up," Ed sighed. "You're right, Al. I don't think Sara would ever forgive me if … if the worst happened, and she never got to see Winry again. I just want to spare them all that pain…"

"Sometimes that's not possible," Al replied reasonably. "We all have pain in our lives. We learn from it and grow stronger, don't we? Do you think you and I could do the things we do, would be who we are, without it?"

"No," Ed agreed, though he sounded like he regretted the truth of that statement. "I just wish Aldon were a little older. Sara understands, I think, even though she doesn't know the full severity of what's going on."

Al nodded. "No matter what happens though, they have you, Ed. They have family; you, and me, and Elicia, Gracia, Will; lots of people who will love and support them through this." He and Ed had Winry and Pinako, though it had taken them a while to realize the truth of that fact.

"I guess I'll talk to Stevenson about letting them visit," Ed said finally. Al thought he heard a little relief in his brother's voice, if only that the decision had finally been made. "More please?" Ed held out his plate.

Al smirked. Aside from the bit on his own plate, Ed had managed to clear out everything on the table without thinking. "Only if you're going to run out and get it yourself."

Ed looked down at the table then and laughed. "Wow," he tried to play it down. "Guess I was pretty hungry." It had been a while since he'd eaten that much in a single sitting. Al knew his brother was still not keen on the idea of any repeat issues with stomach ulcers!

"Yeah, that was my guess," Al chuckled. "Fortunately for me, you're usually consistent."

"Is that just another way of saying I'm pathetically predictable?" Ed asked.

"Maybe," Al replied with a shrug. "But that's only because I know you so well. You spend so much time taking care of everyone else someone has to make sure you take care of yourself at times like this too."

Ed chuckled tiredly. "You're a pest, Al."

Al smiled. "Love you too, Brother."

September 7th, 1936

Edward took the kids to see Winry two days later. There was still little change, but there were slow signs of healing and that was, at least according to Stevenson, somewhat encouraging. The bruises had turned from black to mottled blue and purple, only a mild improvement really, but it was something. X-rays showed signs that broken bones were trying to knit themselves back together.

Ed would take any encouragement he could get. Still, he could feel the relief within the hesitation and worry that were constantly in the house of late when he told Sara and Aldon that they would be allowed to see their mother. "She's still asleep," he warned them when they arrived. "But the doctor says she's well enough for you to visit. We need to be quiet and gentle though all right?"

Sara nodded. "Of course," she replied. "We'll be good, Daddy. You know that."

Ed smiled and hugged them. "Of course I do. I've just got to say it. You know, part of that whole Dad thing," he replied.

Sara rolled her eyes, and smiled.

Aldon missed the joke but hugged him back. "Can we go in now?" he asked hopefully.

When they entered Winry's hospital room a few minutes later, Ed watched the expressions on his children's faces change from hopeful, eager excitement, to a sobered worry. Ed knew from experience that even with warnings the reality of injury and illness was always difficult to deal with.

Sara led the way, holding Aldon's hand as they approached the bed, standing beside it. Aldon was the first to reach out, tentatively stroking the blankets then taking a hold of Winry's limp left hand.

"How is she today, Doc?" Ed asked Stevenson quietly as they stood back near the door, giving the children a little time.

"Breathing's steady," Stevenson replied. "Still no signs of internal injury or of waking. Her body is trying to heal, but with so much to handle at once, progress is slow. It usually is in these cases."

"So still no change," Ed summed it up bluntly.

Stevenson nodded. "Right."

There was little else to say. He and Stevenson had had the same conversation so many times over the past couple of weeks that Ed knew pestering him for any further information or opinions was fruitless. Nothing further would be known until Winry woke up.

Aldon and Sara seemed to be holding up all right. Neither was crying, though Aldon looked a little teary like he might start.

"She's so still," Sara commented as Ed walked up behind them, putting a hand on the shoulder of each of his kids. "It's not fair! Why did the car have to hit her? She never did anything to anyone!"

Ed did not comment about the number of wrenches he had taken to the head in his life, finding it slightly absurd to think of a comment like that at a time like this anyway. "It was an accident, sweetie," he said softly.

"It's still not fair," Sara replied, rubbing her eyes with one hand. Usually the one to put on a tough face to protect her little brother, even she cried sometimes. Ed squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. He knew the feeling all too well.

"No, it's not," he didn't try and argue. It wasn't fair. "But sometimes things happen we can't control."

"Can't you fix, Mom?" Aldon asked. "Like you fixed my blanket, and made the plant in the back yard grow again?"

"No, Aldon," Ed replied. His son had no idea how much Ed regretted what he had to say next. "I'm not a doctor and people aren't things. There's only so much anyone can do with alchemy; it doesn't work miracles." An alchemic doctor might have been able to do something, but the last one Ed had known with the skill needed for this kind of thing had been Marcoh. Some of his students had possessed talents for applying alchemy to medicine, but without an amplifier like a fake stone, their abilities were drastically limited to very minor things when it came to attempting alchemy on a human being directly.

"Then what does?" Aldon asked.

Ed didn't have an answer for him. He looked down at his children, and at Winry's still form, and hated the feeling of helplessness that weighed on his heart.

September 12th-13th, 1936

Three weeks and counting; Ed tried not to, but he couldn't help himself. Every day Winry lay unconscious pained him, tore at his insides, and made it harder to focus on anything else. He had taken Aldon and Sara to visit her a couple more times, though only because they had asked. They were a family and they would stick together to the end, no matter what happened.

"All right you two, make sure you've got your homework done before bed," he said as he shooed the kids away from the table. He picked up the dinner dishes and headed into the kitchen.

"Mine's done," Aldon called after him.

"I have arithmetic," Sara sighed, but Ed could hear the book hit the table in the living room, and he knew she was making an attempt to get her work done. They really were good kids; and Ed suspected that the distraction of homework served much the same purpose for Sara that his work did for him. It was something to keep his mind off of everything else. They really were a lot alike.

Ed was just finishing up the dishes when the phone rang. Wiping his hands on a towel, he crossed the kitchen and picked up the phone. "Elric residence. Edward speaking."

"Edward, it's Stevenson," the familiar voice coming from the other end of the phone sounded business-like.

Ed's stomach fluttered and he swallowed, hoping for good news. "What is it, Doc? Is Winry awake?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line. That couldn't be good. "You should come down here, Edward. We need to talk, and I'd rather do it in person."

"What do you mean she might not last the night?!" Ed yelled about an hour later as he stood in Stevenson's office. He had bundled the kids in the car and come right over; evading their questions because he didn't know the answers and he didn't want them to panic; that was his job! He'd called Al too. His brother was outside in the waiting room now with Sara and Aldon.

"Please, calm down, Edward," Stevenson looked openly upset as he spoke softly. "And sit. This is why I wanted you here in person; it's always hard to tell someone at times like these. But her breathing is erratic, and her heartbeat weakening, with no signs that she's coming around. She could stabilize again but…"

"But you don't think she will." Ed didn't even have to ask it as a question. Stevenson wasn't an alarmist, and if he thought Winry was dying, than he wasn't exaggerating. "And there's nothing you can do."

"We're already trying everything we can," Stevenson replied. "I thought you would want to be here."

To watch another woman he loved with his entire being slip out of his life forever; yeah, just what he wanted. Ed closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It wasn't Stevenson's fault. He needed to be here no matter what happened; no matter how much it crushed his heart to do it. "Thanks, Doc," he managed finally, speaking softly. "I'll go to her now."

Stevenson didn't stop him as he stood and walked down the long hallway to the room Winry was in; Ed tried not to think of it as 'Winry's room.' After this long, it was as familiar to him as their bedroom. He hated that fact.

Sara and Aldon were temporarily distracted by the tank of fish in the waiting room when Ed went by. Al spotted him and gave him a questioning look. Not wanting to get the attention of the kids, Ed didn't speak. He just gave Al a look that was openly what he was feeling at that moment. He knew Al would read it easily enough, and he was right. His brother went pale, then nodded in understanding and turned back to the kids.

Ed finally reached the door and went inside. There was a nurse there when he arrived, but she didn't speak to him. She just finished whatever she was doing and left.

Winry looked…well, not good. But Ed had been expecting that. He could see what Stevenson meant; her breathing and her heartbeat weren't even, they weren't strong. Her color was worse and when he sat down and took her hand, she didn't feel as warm as he thought she should.

He squeezed her hand anyway then rubbed it, bringing to it a little warmth. She had always snuggled up to him when she was cold. Often that had been a clear signal that led to activities that left them both sweating, tired, and happy, but definitely not cold! All Ed could do now was wish fervently that those days would not become painful, bittersweet memories.

For hours he sat there, watching her, waiting, hoping for a sign that something was happening and fearing that when they knew for certain, it would all be over. Nurses and Stevenson came and went at intervals. Ed listened to what they said to each other, but never took his eyes from Winry's still form which seemed so at odds with the strength and life she had always possessed.

The murmurs from the nurses grew quieter, more resigned. Ed knew what was happening. If there was anything he wanted to say to his wife, this might be his very last chance to do it. He took Winry's hand up in both of his, kissing her fingers and holding it close to his face as he rested his elbows on the bed.

"I know there's nothing I can do that will fix this, Winry," he began softly. "Much as I wish there was something I haven't tried, some alchemical avenue I hadn't explored, that could work the miracle I'm looking for. But I know better. I don't even know if you can hear me, but if I don't say what I'm feeling now, I may never have the chance."

"Maybe I don't say it enough, but I love you, Winry. I appreciate everything you've done for me and all that you've accomplished, so much..." The words came out in halting starts, hardly polished or dramatic, but they were true and they were real.

"You're strong Winry, and beautiful and full of life. You're a brilliant auto-mail mechanic and….and a wonderful mother. You've given us the most beautiful children. You're kind, and even with the lumps you've given me…one of the most patient people, especially with me. I wouldn't be anything without you. From childhood, you've been my friend, my conscience at times – even when I didn't think I needed one," he admitted with a sad smirk, "my nurse, my mechanic, someone who listens and always gives me good advice when I really need it; and perspective when I'm too close to something or too emotionally involved to think clearly." He stumbled through the words, choked up with tears and half-whispering, but he had to say it all now. If he didn't…

Alphonse paused outside the open door to Winry's hospital room. He had Aldon in his arms, and Sara standing beside him. They had begged to come down here, but now that they had, Sara seemed rooted to the spot. Stevenson had stopped him in the hall, and very quietly told Al that things were almost over. The wording was vague, but he suspected Sara understood anyway.

"What's Daddy doing?" Sara asked as they watched Ed, speaking nearly in whispers words that Al could make out fairly clearly, but only because he knew Ed's voice so well at any volume. He doubted anyone else would pick up much of it.

His brother had never looked so small. Even when Alphonse had been a suit of armor – so odd that those four years were now such a small part of the length of his life – Ed had always made up for his size with attitude and sheer personality, his forceful presence and internal strength. Now, he looked delicate, like he would break at any moment; like he was prepared for it.

He knew what Ed was hoping, despite not daring to hope, and what his brother needed. In his own way, Ed was begging, from anyone who could possibly be listening, for a miracle. "He's praying, Sara," he replied softly. At least, it was as close as he thought he would ever see Ed come. "Let's leave him alone all right?"

Sara looked doubtful, but she nodded and neither she nor Aldon argued with him as they went back to the waiting room.

Ed was oblivious to everything outside of himself and Winry now. The more he managed to say, the more it seemed desperately needed to be said. Words came to him, and rushed out of his mouth, unedited, unconsidered; there wasn't time to worry about how well he said things.

"You….you're insightful, and talented….and so much of what is good about me is largely your doing. I love you so much, Winry. You… you can't die now. I need you. Sara and Aldon need you. You're too stubborn to let something like this end everything we've done together. Please….Winry….." he faded out as he was finally overcome by emotion, by grief, and he lay his head down on the bed, her hand still clasped in both of his, and sobbed.

"Edward?"

It was so soft; at first Ed was sure he was hallucinating. He bit back another sob and looked up. Winry hadn't moved, but her eyes were cracked open. "Winry!" He blinked in amazement, almost not daring to believe it. "Y-you're awake."

Winry blinked, clearly disoriented still, and exhausted, but definitely conscious. "Yeah," she replied quietly. "Where am I?"

"In the hospital," Ed said, managing to talk though he was so choked up, now with relief, that it was difficult! "You were hit by a car. Do you remember?"

Winry's brow creased briefly as she thought. "I think so," she said finally. Then she winced as she moved a little. "I hurt."

"You're pretty badly injured," Ed explained. "Don't move." Hell, Stevenson needed to know about this, now! It had to be a good sign that Winry was awake. This was what he had been hoping and holding out for for weeks! "Doc! Someone!" he called out. "Get in here now!"

"You're…excited," Winry managed, a tiny brief smile quirking one side of her mouth before it faded. "And…crying? Ed, how long was I out?" She continued to speak quietly, in starts, her voice no stronger than she looked.

He was still crying, tears of relief streaming down his face, and Ed didn't care. He smiled, her hand clutched firmly in his. He'd have hugged her if it wouldn't have been a truly terrible idea in her condition! "Three weeks," he replied, scrubbing his face with his sleeve. "They said you… oh…damn it," he could barely talk he was so emotional!

At that moment Stevenson, with two nurses behind him, arrived in the room and suddenly everything was a flurry of movement and action as they descended, politely of course, upon the patient.

"It's good to see you awake," Stevenson smiled at Winry, looking a little disbelieving himself. "How do you feel?"

"Tired," Winry replied. "Three weeks?" she looked back over at Ed for confirmation.

Ed just nodded.

"You've had a lot of folks very worried," Stevenson commented as he came around to the other side, picking up the hand that Ed wasn't clutching for dear life, and checking her pulse while one nurse checked her temperature. The other was checking the IV bag, and then took her blood pressure. Stevenson moved on from pulse to heartbeat, listening carefully and with intense concentration.

Ed held his breath, fearful that something Stevenson would find mind bring the feeling of impending doom back down on him. Winry was awake. That didn't necessarily mean she was fine.

But when he was through with his examination, Stevenson smiled again. "Amazing; and I don't mind admitting it. I'm more than pleased to see such an incredible turn around."

"Then she's okay?" Ed blurted out.

"Well, she's very much alive," Stevenson chuckled softly. "But I'm sure Winry can tell you that for herself." He turned his attention back to his patient and spoke to them both. "Your heartbeat and your breathing are both steady, and your temperature was low, but seems to be rising steadily for now."

"Good," Winry replied, though she still looked confused. "Would someone like to tell me what's going on? You're all acting so…strange."

Stevenson paused a moment, then chuckled. Ed blushed and this time he managed to speak. "Half an hour ago you… well, we were sure you were dying."

Winry's mouth froze open in a little 'o' for several seconds. "No wonder you look awful," she commented finally.

"Gee, thanks," Ed tried to look cross, but he couldn't manage it. He was too relieved to hear her speak, and see her blue eyes looking up at him to care! "You're not exactly ready for a ball yourself."

"I sure don't feel like it," Winry admitted. "Can I have something to eat?" she asked next, looking over at Stevenson. "I'm hungry."

"Of course," Stevenson replied, sending both nurses out and running. "I'm afraid we don't have much of a gourmet menu, but it's edible. That's the best thing for you right now; some real food and sustenance that doesn't come from water."

Winry still had a long way to go to be fully healed up; Ed had been there before himself, so he knew the drill. But Winry injured and healing he could deal with a lot better than losing her forever! That she was awake and talking coherently immediately assuaged his fears that she might have had head-injuries beyond the cuts that needed stitching. He knew Stevenson had been worried about that as well.

"I'll want to run you through a more thorough examination," Stevenson explained to Winry. "We haven't been able to check the full extent of injury to your back without you conscious to gauge reactions. But you should definitely eat first."

"I understand," Winry replied.

"Good. I'll be back in a little bit," Stevenson said as he stood to exit. "Call again if you need anything."

"I will." Ed watched Stevenson leave, then leaned over and kissed Winry gently on the forehead. He still didn't dare touch her too much for fear he'd cause her pain.

"How bad is it?" Winry asked softly when they were alone again.

Reassured that she wasn't going to die at any moment, Ed was able to find the words to reply. Slowly he catalogued the injuries for her; the shoulder, ribs, her head, everything. "We've been waiting for you to wake up," he finally reached the end. "Last night though, things weren't good. Stevenson called and told me I should here because…." Tears welled in his eyes again. "I really thought that was it, Winry," he replied, guilt in his heart. "I'd given up."

"Ed," Winry managed to move her hand to grip his instead, and gave him a weak squeeze back. She spoke softly, stopping often, a sign of how exhausted she still was. "It's okay. I know this has been difficult for you…waiting, not knowing. I don't really remember much. I think I noticed the nurses sometimes, but mostly, there's just blackness. But," she smiled. "I know I heard you talking to me, several times."

"As much as they'd let me be here," Ed assured her. "I don't think I could go on without you, Winry."

"Well I have no intention of going anywhere," Winry chuckled, and then winced. "Ouch. That car really did a number on me didn't it?" she sighed. "I hurt all over." She blinked, and looked over at him suddenly, as if remembering something. "I thought I heard Sara and Aldon sometimes too. Are they here? Are they all right?"

"They're fine," Ed smiled. "And yes, they insisted on coming. They're here in the waiting room with Al."

"You can see them after you eat," one of the nurses commented as she returned with a tray of food that, to Ed, looked relatively unappetizing.

"I'll help her," he told the nurse when she sat the tray down on the table beside him.

"All right." The nurse nodded and left again.

Winry smirked at him, but Ed knew she would need the help. "Hey," he smiled. "You've done it for me enough times." It took a while, but Winry finished off the chicken vegetable soup and a good sized piece of bread that Ed softened up by soaking it in the broth.

"I'm still hungry," Winry admitted when she was done.

"I'm not surprised, given how long it's been since you've eaten," Ed chuckled. "I'm sure they'll have more for you later. You've got to eat to get better after all."

"I don't think that will be a problem," Winry teased. "Maybe now I'll be able to truly understand what it's like to be you."

"Maybe," Ed said teasingly. "I'm not sure you're on my level though. That takes years of dedicated practice."

"And a metabolism like a starving rabbit," Winry quipped. It raised Ed's spirits to hear her match him. This was his Winry.

"Better than the alternative," Ed retorted, still smiling idiotically. "I have missed you so much."

"I'm sorry I scared you," Winry apologized.

"It's not your fault," Ed replied. How could she even think that? "You weren't trying to get hurt… like I seem to do," he added with a soft chuckle. "It happened. What matters is that you're still here, and you're going to get better." Winry was alive; at this point he was almost convinced that anything was possible. He didn't care how it had happened; he was just grateful!

"How quickly we shall find out shortly," Stevenson said, returning with one nurse in tow. "I hate to do this, Edward, but I'm going to need you to move while we finish the examination."

"I understand." Regretfully, Ed stood and moved back towards the door. He stopped there, having no intention of leaving! He watched as Stevenson and the nurse removed the sheets, and carefully checked Winry's arms and legs. With her awake to comment on pains, it seemed to be going well. Then after more preliminary work, they rolled her up on her left side – the undamaged one – and checked her back and spine.

Ed hadn't realized he'd tensed up again until Winry was back down on the bed, and Stevenson was actually smiling. "Good news?" Ed couldn't help asking.

"Yes," Stevenson replied. "There's no nerve damage or spinal damage. Eventually," he looked to Winry, "You'll have full movement back. I'm afraid it will be a long, slow process, several weeks most likely, but you'll heal. A bit of good news: your strained knee has already healed up almost completely since you've been off it. So getting you up and walking again won't be too difficult."

"That is good news," Ed smiled, looking down at Winry.

Winry smiled. "Thank you, Doctor Stevenson. I'm glad to hear that."

"I'll tell your children they can come in now," Stevenson chuckled. "But keep the visit short. Three weeks of unconsciousness does little of what real sleep will do for you, and you will need a lot of rest."

Ed nodded, as did Winry, though he knew she wished it could be longer. He did too, but he was feeling drained from the dramatic downs and ups of the last little bit himself, and he knew they would all need time to really heal emotionally. "Thanks, Doc."

It seemed only moments after Stevenson stepped out the door that Al herded a very excited Sara and Aldon into the room.

"Mommy!" Sara ran up, barely stopping herself in time to keep from slamming into the bed; she 'did' slam into Ed! "You're all right!"

"Mommy," Aldon scrambled past Ed on his other side to get close, his eyes wide, and his need for his mother obvious.

"Welcome back, Winry," Alphonse smiled gently at Winry, clearly as relieved and pleased as the rest of them.

"It's nice to be back," Winry smiled, though she looked like she might cry. "Come here, my babies," she did her best to reach out with her good arm, and she stroked Aldon's cheek and squeezed Sara's hand each in turn. "It's all right now."

Yes, as much as the words were meant for the children, they soothed Ed too. Everything was going to be all right.

It was another two weeks before Stevenson declared Winry healthy enough to go home, but those two weeks seemed like barely days to Ed compared to the eternity of those preceding. He and the children visited every day as soon as he got done with work, and stayed until dinner. Then they went home and worked to make sure the house was ready for Winry to come home!

Aldon's sixth birthday wasn't the big party they had originally planned. They had it with just the family – which included Al, Gracia, Elicia, and Will of course - in Winry's hospital room, but Aldon said he didn't mind. All he really wanted at that point was his Mom!

Everyone at HQ was glad to hear the good news too. When Ed apologized for his moodiness lately, Breda just laughed. "Don't worry, Ed! We've gotten used to you being a little short!"

In a gesture of good will, Ed didn't kill him.

Now that Winry was awake and could eat and drink properly, she healed faster; much to Ed's relief. The stitches came out of her head a few days before she could go home, leaving only small marks that were covered by her hair and would fade with time. Her knee was fine, and a week before she came home she was up and walking some, and very glad to be able to go to the bathroom instead of dealing with a catheter tube! The bruises faded to mottled browns and yellows.  
The broken ribs and shoulder would take the longest to heal; especially the shoulder, but Winry seemed to have an unusual amount of patience with the whole thing. When Ed asked her about it, she smiled at him. "What good would being impatient and frustrated do me, Ed? I can't make this heal any faster. I'm just glad to be alive, with the time to heal at all."

It had been a sobering yet enlightening moment. He was so proud and awed by her patience. She reminded him of his mother, and instead of replying, he just smiled through damp eyes.

September 26th, 1936

The day Winry came home, Ed finally started to feel normal again. The morning was a flurry of activity; cleaning and setting things up so that she could get around and get things done with a minimum of fuss.

"I thought Winry would enjoy these," Sciezka said when she came by with a small stack of books, and a casserole that went into the refrigerator. One less meal Ed would have to worry about cooking! "Something to do," she chuckled.

Ed looked at the books. There was a handful of novels (one was a torrid romance about a female auto-mail mechanic and a handsome triple amputee she treated in a war), and a more recent publication on trends in auto-mail development. He chuckled. "I'm sure she will." Much as he wasn't one for romance stories, the back of that one sounding mildly intriguing.

Gracia did her part to fill their fridge. There was a stew, a couple of roasts, another casserole, and a couple of her famous apple pies. Ed tried not to drool, and forced himself not to break into any of it until Winry came home! "Don't worry, Edward," Gracia chuckled, smiling at him. "This one's for you," she pulled out a third pie, this one still piping hot.

Ed took it carefully in both hands and sniffed. Blackberry! "You're a goddess, Gracia. Thank you!"

Gracia chuckled and patted his arm. "You're welcome, Edward. Everyone needs a little pick-me-up sometimes. And I'll bet you haven't eaten this morning either."

Ed blinked; then laughed. "Guilty as charged!" He'd been far too distracted with people coming and going and his excitement over Winry finally coming home. He was famished, but he hadn't stopped to think about it.

"Then you go take a few minutes and eat something," Gracia smirked. "I think the house will wait a little longer."

Ed had to admit she was right. There were enough hands as it was. Sara, Aldon, and Will were in the back yard 'keeping the dogs distracted' – in other words, out of the way – while Elicia made sure Winry's workshop was in order so Winry wouldn't freak, even if she couldn't use it right away. She also made sure that things were generally tidy upstairs. Alphonse had also helped with the cleaning, and a little necessary yard work that had slipped. Gracia had the kitchen in hand.

Really, there wasn't much Ed was needed for at the moment. And he was standing there with both hands holding a steaming hot Blackberry pie. "I'll be in the living room," he grinned, grabbing a fork and leaving the room with Gracia chuckling softly behind him.

Half a pie later, he was feeling pretty good! Ed was more than a little tempted to devour the whole thing, and he probably could have, but he had gotten pretty good over the years at moderating. He could finish it later. And, really, Sara and Aldon liked blackberry almost as much as he did. So he would probably share a little of it with them later – and with Winry of course – before polishing it off completely! At least he wasn't starving anymore. In fact, he was enjoying the very pleasant feeling of a stomach full of warm pie, the delicate taste lingering on his tongue.

"Feeling better, Brother?" Al chuckled, leaning over the back of the couch.

Ed opened one eye and looked up at his little brother. "Sometimes I'm amazed wars haven't been fought over Gracia's pies," he grinned and stretched.

"If you talked to Roy, I'm sure that could be arranged," Al joked.

"Nah," Ed shook his head. "I'd rather we kept them a safe State secret."

"Right, more for us," Al agreed, smiling.

"For me," Ed corrected.

"You'll get that war after all if you try and keep it all to yourself," Al laughed.

Ed smirked. "Alchemy duel at dawn for the last slice?"

"No thanks," Al stood upright again and turned away. "If I say yes, you'll eat it before tomorrow morning anyway!"

"I'm hurt that you think I would be that dishonest," Ed sighed, obviously faking.

"I don't make the same mistake twice, Brother," Al retorted. "Besides, last I heard, gluttony's a sin!"

"Not funny, Al." But Ed was laughing now.

"Sure it is," Al called back. "Better get ready to go. It's almost time to pick up Winry!"

Right! That got him moving. Still chuckling, Ed got up and put the rest of the pie in the refrigerator. It was just going to be Ed and Al bringing her home. Much less chaotic that way! They had figured it would be better if family and friends were waiting at home.

Winry was waiting impatiently when the two brothers arrived at the hospital. "It's about time," she said when they walked in the room. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten!"

Ed chuckled. He knew she was joking. "Well there was this pie…." he laughed.

Winry rolled her eyes. "I can be replaced so easily."

"Oh don't be silly," Ed grinned. "It would take at least five pies to replace you."

Al snorted, trying to swallow a laugh. "A day," he added, though Ed doubted that would smooth things over.

Winry smirked. "Then at least I can rest assured from your usual scrawny state that you haven't actually succeeded in replacing me."

"I'm not scrawny," Ed scowled, but he couldn't even really feel angry. It was just good to hear sarcastic comments from Winry! Besides, she wasn't entirely off the mark either. He shrugged it off and smiled. "You ready to go?"

"Am I ever," Winry laughed as she sat up and stood, with Ed's help. She was capable of walking on her own without any problems, but getting up and down with a healing shoulder and ribs was still difficult. "Thanks," she smiled softly once she was standing.

"You have it from here?" Ed asked. He wasn't going to step away until he was sure she was solid.

Winry nodded, but took his arm with her good one anyway. "I'm good," she smiled.

Al was smiling. "I'll get her bag." Once Winry had awoken, Ed had brought some of her things over to help her pass the time and be more comfortable. Like her real nightgowns and shirts instead of hospital gowns! Though only the ones that buttoned or zipped; the others were impossible to get on and off with her upper arm immobilized and ribs still bound in place to minimize movement.

Ed smiled, escorting Winry out. He felt proud as she walked on his arm, but wasn't leaning on him. He was there if she needed him though. He had already seen to the necessary check-out procedures, and Al went ahead, bringing around the car so they could settle Winry comfortably into it without too long of a walk.

"Comfortable?" Ed asked, once he had gotten Winry in.

She nodded. "Reasonably. I never thought such a short walk could be so tiring."

Ed kissed her briefly. "You'll be fine in no time. I'll bet if you wanted you could already smack me upside the head with any number of tools."

"Only if you held still," Winry chuckled. "Let's go home."

The house was full of even more people than Ed had expected when they'd left. While he knew the family was there, he hadn't been aware that a few other friends would be dropping by! Sciezka and Falman were still there, and Roy, Riza, and Maes had shown up. Maes had joined the Elric children – Ed's and Al's – playing in the back yard with the dogs.

"Apparently good news never stays quiet," Gracia chuckled softly to Ed as he settled Winry into a 'seat of honor' in their most comfortable over-stuffed chair.

"That's all right," Ed replied good-naturedly. As much as he had been planning a relatively quiet afternoon, he wasn't going to ruin the party either. Especially not when Winry seemed happy to see friends! They had kept things relatively quiet at the hospital, visits from anyone other than the family had been rare, but by the end, Ed knew Winry had been desperate for more human contact! Now she was surrounded by her closest friends, chatting away excitedly.

"Looks like we're not needed here," Ed chuckled to the guys as he ate from the light lunch buffet that Gracia had managed to whip up with her usual speed and skill on short notice.

"Except when they need something to point and laugh at," Falman chuckled.

"That doesn't worry me nearly as much as it used to," Roy shrugged, sipping from a glass.

There was a sudden eruption of exited squeals and giggles from the cluster of women behind Ed.

He jumped. "Though that sound does," Ed admitted. "What's going on over there?" He cautiously turned around to see the hugging laughing mass.

"That would be our news," Alphonse commented. When Ed turned back around, his brother was grinning, and looking a little embarrassed.

It only took Ed a split second to put the clues together. "Another one already?" he teased, chuckling.

"Hey, they'll be farther apart than you and me," Al defended himself, though he blushed more even as he joined in the laughter.

"I'm just kidding. Congratulations, Al." Ed was glad for Al and Elicia. Will was a great little kid, and Ed knew they wanted a second. Really, he shouldn't have been surprised. "Why didn't you say something sooner?"

Al shrugged. "Things have been kind of tense lately," he pointed out. "We were just waiting for good timing."

In other words, they hadn't wanted to make Ed feel bad if things hadn't gone well. Not that Ed ever would have, but he appreciated their consideration of his feelings, silly as it was! "There's never a bad time to find out I'm going to be an uncle again," Ed smiled.

Roy and Falman echoed his congratulations.

At the other end of the room, the happy chatter continued, though the squealing had stopped for the most part. Looking beyond the rest of the guys, Ed could see the kids playing happily in the yard. Sara and Maes were playing a chasing game with the dogs, while Aldon and Will built a huge tower out of blocks and sand in the sandbox.

Everything was right with his world again.


End file.
